


Standing Here Loving Me

by babbyspanch



Series: Sound of Music only we are on Mars which is pretty neat [1]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: F/F, M/M, bc be real when will these men ever let themselves be happy lol, everyone is happy au except not, it has kid versions of a bunch of characters-- vicky julian mick and annie, it's just the ballroom scene but on...mars, this is a sort of sound of music au so uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:43:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9202421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babbyspanch/pseuds/babbyspanch
Summary: Peter Nureyev has the perfect con job planned. it involves being a nanny in a fancy house for a while but hey, he's done worse long cons than this before-- right?((this is just sort of a glimpse into the au, the ballroom scene where maria and the captain are dancing was the inspiration on this one))





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey kids i'm a big sucko for sound of music and jupeter so here take this i guess?? sorry it's ooc we all know Peter would tell Juno his real name if they spent approx three minutes together in an elevator but it's for the sake of DRAMA okay please forgive me
> 
> also i think the italics got taken out of this bad boy but i'll fix it when i get my internet back-- i'm posting from my phone rn rip

Peter watched with amusement as the children poked their heads into the gilded ballroom, mouths agape as people swirled and floated across the room in beautiful gowns. Others danced as the partner, steady and sure, backs straight, movements smooth and strong.

  
Annie stood apart from the other children, pantomiming a scene to herself. She accepted the dance request from her imaginary partner, the soft music swirling at the open bay doors and into the blue Martian night.

  
Nureyev had to smile as he watched the young girl trot just slightly off beat, in a world of her own. Over the last few weeks Peter had grown very fond of Annie. Of all the children in the Wire household.

  
Annie had three other siblings, all as incorrigible, wonderful and blindingly brilliant as the next.

  
The second oldest was Mick, apparently named for an old family friend. He was brash and headstrong, but loved everything fiercely. From the baby bird he insisted they adopt, to his distant mother, preoccupied with work and responsibilities. Next youngest was Vicky, who burned brightly with righteous anger at any injustice, but turned around and stole cookies when she thought no one was looking. She had skinny arms and the sharpest elbows Nureyev had ever had the misfortune of being on the business end of. when she smiled it was with all of her teeth, the way children do before they learn to be self-conscious. The youngest was Julian, pouty and almost as petulant as--

  
Peter cut himself off. No, not tonight. He wouldn't think of that man at all tonight. He had made himself a promise.

  
Julian was sweet and well-meaning, full of passion and vigor. He said he wanted to be on stage and proved himself a lover of drama at all it's forms, despite being only five. He would often climb to the top of the sweeping staircase to announce loudly any new gossip he had gathered that day.

  
Peter considered the Wire Mansion, with its grand windows, lush gardens, and giant glass doors opening into the ballroom from the patio, where he and the children stood. Spectators to the grandiose dance that had been in the works for days.

  
Captain Sasha Wire had a large family, a large house, and a large number of issues when it came to connecting with anyone on a human level. Peter had to admit she was improving, only after he sat her down and had a calm talk (read: a furious argument, soaking wet, about how the children just want to be loved and cared for).

  
Peter couldn't take all the credit, despite his rather impressive previous record of doing just that.

  
There was this woman, Rita, who came by with dispatches from Dark Matters. Something about how ‘hackable’ electronics were made her job a necessity. Peter was seventy-six percent sure that bike she had was just for show. Rita and Captain Wire had shared many late nights, talking intently under the trees on the lawns. One night Peter had even glimpsed them dancing in the gazebo, which of been a bit of a shock to his system. He had run to tell Juno the instant–

  
No. Peter was not thinking of him.

  
At any rate, the night before Peter had spotted Rita sneaking out of Captain Wire’s bedroom at a rather indecent time, which had Peter grinning despite himself.

  
In fact, Peter thought, as another smile stretched across his face, there she was in the ballroom now, swirling and laughing caught tight in the captain's arms. they made a handsome couple, floating lace and hair on Rita contrasted with Captain Wires stiffly starched suit and slicked back hair make a striking picture.

  
Peter turned from the scene to see Annie who was still swirling in her own world, wearing a pink dress lapping like waves around her ankles. The children hadn't spotted him yet, as he was leaning up against some rather impressively landscaped shrubs and not hiding from a single soul thank you very much.

  
A new song started to play and Peter felt his breath physically catch in his throat.

  
Despite himself he took three steps out onto the stonework patio, drawn in by the music of his childhood.

  
All the children looked up at him as his shoes clicked on the patio and Julian beamed up at him, “Are you going to dance, Mr. Glass?”

  
The name jolted Peter out of his revere.

  
He was not there to have a nice time, he was not there to bond with the sweet wonderful children, and he absolutely was not there to fall in love with that blasted butler.

  
Whom he was not thinking about, thank you very much.

  
“As much as I'd like to Julian, I don't think there's anyone here who knows the proper steps.” He said, forcing a smile.

  
“Is it a very complex one?” Annie asked, having stopped dancing when the last song ended, but was now swaying to the infectious one-two-three beat of the traditional Brahman folk song that filled the quiet night air. The flutes, clarinet, and violins merged together to create a sweet high melody that took all of Peter's strength not to dance along too. “I'm sure you could teach me!”

  
Mick clapped with joy, “oh yes please! Teach us!”

  
Vicky did her best to look uninterested, but Peter could see her tapping her toe to the beat and watching the commotion out of the corner of her eye.

  
“It's not that I don't think you could learn, children– but I haven't danced to this in…” Peter felt his eyes grow misty and he blinked twice, quickly. “Well. A very long time.”

  
Annie was many things – brilliant, excitable, and sometimes unbearably smug, but one of the things she wasn't was good at graciously accepting ‘no’ for an answer. “I'm sure you still remember it, Mr. Glass. Just one dance.”

  
Peter cleared his throat. He would have to leave this place very soon.

  
He had planned a slightly longer con this; assume a fake identity. Apply for the governess job Captain Wire had released into a few, trustworthy circles (that ended up being not so trustworthy). Gain access to the Wire Mansion, and more importantly, the Wire fortune. rob the whole place blind after squeezing what actual money he could from his paychecks. Stealing the various ‘trinkets’ from the home would be a sure-fire way to gain himself millions of creds, but every pawnshop worth their salt on the surface of Mars would know it had come from the Wire Mansion. The reward for turning in the thief would no doubt outstrip whatever they could make selling anything Peter stole.

  
So, steal everything at the last possible second and get off planet.

  
It had been such a good plan.

  
But then, something completely unexpected happened.

  
Peter Nureyev fell in love.

  
He fell in love with the house, with the children, even with the prickly captain that he watched try to hide how excited she was every time Juno came in to tell her she had another message from Dark Matters, delivered by the particular blonde that could light up any room you put her in.

  
And Juno. Angry, petulant, charming, beautiful, magnificent, caring Juno Steel.

  
Peter had fallen in love with him too.

  
if Peter were writing a romance novel based on his life. Or, God help him, some contrived and cliché musical. The obvious choice would've been for him to fall for the captain. Sasha was rich, smart, charming in a brisk way, and narratively, it just made the most sense.

  
But no. Peter Nureyev had gone and fallen in love with the butler.

  
Peter cleared his throat and met Annie’s eyes. He was still not thinking about Juno.

  
“Fine. You may have a single dance, but I'll have you know my dance card is full to bursting and it's only because I like you so much.” Peter said, tapping her nose and sweeping her up into his arms.

  
At some point over the last few weeks Peter had broken quite a few of his own rules. He'd fall in love, he'd gone shopping in broad daylight with the traceable cred card, and most horribly, somehow, disastrously, he'd forgotten to keep acting.

  
He'd stop being Rex Glass (vulgar, prideful, late to pay any and all bills, had his heart broken as a college freshman and never overcame it, dreamed of visiting Jupiter someday, pretended to hate astrology but would read the Leo column every morning.) and started being, well. Him. Peter Nureyev.

  
He swept Annie and a tight circle before twirling her out and then stepping in the correct pattern. Step, hop, hop. Step, hop, hop.

  
“And then here, darling, we do a sort of twirl where we duck under each other's arms–” Easier said than done, somehow. Annie was much shorter than Peter, she was on her tiptoes and still couldn't stretch quite high enough to get them both under in time with the music.

  
Suddenly, Annie's hands let go of his and Peter looked up, still leaning in a sharp jackknife backwards, and met Juno’s eyes.

  
“I’m cutting in.” He said, talking to Annie, but never taking his eyes off of Peter's.

  
Peter straightened up quickly, adjusting his suit lapels from where they were rumpled and cleared his throat quickly. Annie laughed at them and swept off to dance with one of her siblings, who had all filtered into the ballroom, leaving Peter and Juno alone on the patio, music still trailing in from the hall like a comforting breeze.

  
“No offence meant, Juno.” Peter said, abruptly cutting the silence between them, “But the song is a bit of a rarity. It's a –”

  
“Traditional Braman folksong. I know.” Juno smirked a little and drew closer to Peter, offering his own hand. “Dance with me, Rex.”

  
Peter swallowed, inhaled through his nose, and let himself have this one thing.

  
Juno pulled him close, and surprised Peter, even now, by leading. His hand rested, burning hot, and the small of Peter’s back. Even through three layers Peter could count the fingertips pressing lightly into him, guiding him through the steps of his childhood.

  
They twirled wide and came back closer than before, still not quite close enough. Somehow, Peter's jacket fell slower than Junos hand did and it rested, even hotter, between his long coat and his vest. Something twisted deep inside him, a strong pull to this man.

  
This man whose eyes hadn't left Peter’s this whole dance. This man whose light touch was enough to guide them seamlessly and elegantly across the uneven patio. This man whose embrace was almost as warm as his smile. This man who, Peter had a suspicions, was the one who requested this song.

  
This man who Peter had fallen headlong for, hardly a day after meeting him.

  
Juno Steel.

  
They twirled under each other's arms and broke eye contact for the first time since Juno had asked him to dance. When they came back – hands still clasped, one pair above their heads, one linking behind their backs – they were nose to nose. Peter inhaled sharply. This was the closest they had ever been. Juno must've been wearing a pair of heels because they were the same height. Normally, Peter would've had to lean down to kiss him but right now…

  
Right now all it would take was a soft push forward.

  
Music carried on around them, still the high trills and rolling count. A few minutes ago it had been in time with Peter's heartbeat. Now one of them is going significantly faster.

  
They had stopped dancing, frozen in place. Peter was aware, vaguely, of the sounds humans make when in a large group coming from behind him. A sort of mid-tone hum of conversation and shuffling feet. He was far more keenly aware of everything about the man pressed close to his chest.

  
The way his dark eyebrows had drawn together in a look of what could only be described as longing. The fulness of his lips, centimetres from Peter’s own. The soft look in those eyes. The breath ghosting across Peter’s lips, where Juno’s eyes flicked and rested.

  
Somehow, it still took him by surprise when Juno spoke, “Can I..?”

  
Peter jerked away. Took several steps backward, for good measure. He shoved his hands in his pockets, where Juno wouldn't see them shaking.

  
He fixed the blasé smile of Rex Glass on his lips, and hated how bitter it tasted. “Sorry, darling. I have a strict ‘look but don't touch’ policy.”

  
What a load of shit. There is no way Juno would believe that. Not brilliant, clever, observant–

  
“Who are you. Really, I mean.”

  
Peter froze. Juno’s voice cut through the same night air, harsh and demanding in all the ways the dance hadn't been.

  
“What are you talking about, Juno,” The plastic smile got wider and Peter felt sick, “I'm Rex, I've been working here for weeks you should know that by–”

  
“Brahman folk traditions don't tend to get a whole lot of widespread traction as far as cultures go, Rex. Or whoever the hell you really are. You sure aren't on any data files I could find. Your driver's license may have checked out but I keep telling Sasha that's not enough.”

  
Peter felt a chill like cold water dripping down his spine. He didn't feel it often, but he knew what it was. It was what went hand-in-hand with being trapped. Behind them the band started to play a different waltz, something heavier, with more cello.

  
“I don't know what kind of game you're insisting on playing here, Juno, but I–”

  
Juno got close again, nose to nose, but this time his eyes were anything but soft. “If you hurt those kids, a single hair on their head, I swear to God I'll--”

  
“Don't you dare–” Peter interrupted, dropping the act they both knew was a lie. “I would never hurt those children. For you to even suggest–”

  
“Well, what am I supposed to think!” Juno demanded, eyes sparking. “you sweep in here, charming as you like practically riding a beam of starlight, without a single record of you on planet or off, we don't even know your real name, and you expect me to just trust you--!”

  
“Peter Nureyev.” His own name falls out from where it's been tucked behind his teeth for years, waiting.

  
“I–” Juno looks floored. Then he looks skeptical. “Why should I believe –”

  
“Juno, we both know you're not an idiot.” Juno clamps up again, apparently waiting for Peter to finish. Nureyev feels a small thrill of victory. “You picked that song from Brahma on purpose. You figured it out. You already know who I am.”

  
Juno looks away. He runs his fingers through his hair and for the first time Peter notices the elegant black gown Juno’s wearing. Peter's mouth is dry.

  
“I didn't... I don't know everything.” his words were softer than Peter expects.

  
“But you know enough.”

  
Juno looks back up, their eyes meet again. Peter is sad knowing it will likely be for the last time.

  
“I know enough.” Juno agrees, voice heavy.

  
Peter sighs and tugs it his cuffs, pulling his character back on at the same time. “Well. That is a pity. I suppose I'll be going now. Maybe you’ll hold off on calling the HCPD on me for a night, darling? For old times’ sake?”

  
Juno looks almost as sad as Nureyev feels, which in one sense is affirming, but in all the others... it breaks Peter’s heart. “Or…” he says, softly, taking a step closer to Juno, like he's been waiting to do since they stepped apart, “you could come with me.”

  
Juno breathes sharply as Peter rests his hand on the smooth, naked skin of his arm. Slowly he trails his fingers up to Juno’s jawline, light as a whisper. “We could travel universe together, you and I.”

  
The worst part is seeing the naked longing, plain as day, on Junos face, before he shuts down again. Pulls his arm back harshly. “Someone has to keep an eye on the kids. Especially if you're abandoning them to, ‘Nureyev’.”

  
It's Peter's turn to take a harsh breath. He feels the words like a punch to the gut, sharp and aching.

  
“Just go. Before I do call the HCPD.”

  
Peter nods, backing away slowly from the warm pool of light on the patio, from the mansion, from the kids he can catch the occasional glimpse of, twirling and laughing with the adults and the ballroom.

  
From Juno.

  
After Brahma, Peter didn't think his heart could break again.

  
Turns out he was wrong about a lot of things.

  
He can't even whisper a farewell as he melts into the night.

  
He wasn't sure how Juno found out who we was, but one thing is for sure.

  
No more long cons.


End file.
